


No Comment

by sahem62896



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Missing Scene, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:32:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3116843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sahem62896/pseuds/sahem62896
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why did Busmalis freak out in front of Lisa Logan and the camera crew?  The answer will surprise you!</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> Being afraid of television cameras or of being interviewed is not an uncommon fear, but Agamemnon Busmalis is terrified of it... and for good reason. The presence of Lisa Logan and her crew is only making it worse. Have they found out his most horrible secret? 
> 
> Now let's say the rest together: I own the rights to nothing and this is for fun.
> 
> \---------------------------------------------

_"I'm a fool to do your dirty work..." —Steely Dan_  


 

Busmalis looked at the cards in his trembling hands. He could only remember one other occasion that they had been shaking this badly. "That camera's making me so nervous I can't even shuffle," he admitted to Rebadow.

Rebadow looked at his friend with equal amounts of compassion and contempt. "Give me the cards," he said.

Busmalis handed them over, but his hands did not still themselves. He had on his lucky hat, and with that damned camera crew here in Em City he needed all the luck he could get. He hoped nothing else could possibly give him away. "Do I look okay?"

"You look like you," Rebadow answered.

This was not what Busmalis wanted to hear; he wanted to look innocent. "Oh, shit." He was trying desperately to drown out the memory, and even harder to drown out the possibility that loomed in his mind. "When I was on TV after I escaped," he babbled, "I couldn't believe how bad I looked. My skin was gray."

Rebadow looked back at him blankly, and Busmalis had the awful feeling that the scene playing out in his mind was visible in his eyes.

The darkened hallway between Em City and the library... the irregular tempo of Beecher's steps as he hobbled beside him... the way his hands were shaking... he had been close to tears...

_"Did you do it?" Beecher had asked._

_"Yeah." Busmalis had answered in a trembling voice. "Got him twice in the back while he was shelving paper in the copy room."_

_Beecher had nodded. "Perfect."_

_"When do I get paid?"_

_"Already took care of it," Beecher had said._

_"And you're sure they're going to suspect Schillinger?" he whimpered._

_"Who the fuck else are they going to suspect?" Beecher had snapped._

_"But what if Keller doesn't suspect him?"_

_"If he doesn't, it still won't come back on you, Busmalis," Beecher had replied coldly. "Fuck, I'd love for him to think it was me!"_

_He managed somehow to control the shakes enough to fumble a cigarette out of his breast pocket, strike a match and hold it to the end of the cigarette._

_"You shouldn't be smoking," Beecher commented._

_"Fuck you, Beecher! I just spiked a guy for you, so don't you tell me what to do!"_

_Beecher had snatched the cigarette out of the other man's mouth and crushed it against the wall. "Oh, stop. You're not even a smoker."_

_"I'm not a killer either!" he had cried a little too loudly._

_"Lower your fucking voice!" Beecher had hissed back. "Just... stop talking. Besides, it's done."_

But it wasn't done.  Not for Busmalis.

Eventually, they had lapsed into silence and gone their separate ways. And as Beecher had limped away, Busmalis had stood there in the darkness for God only knew how long looking down at the crushed cigarette on the floor with real pain and real regret... and real terror.  He hadn't really known Keller and had hated what Keller and Schillinger had done to Beecher, but how the fuck had he let Beecher talk him into shanking him? How had his grumbling to Beecher about how Schillinger was spitting in his food turned into going along with a plan to get Schillinger back that involved pinning a murder on him? Is that what Oz did to everyone?

He didn't know, but he knew what it had done to him; it had driven him right off the rails. He could barely look Keller or Beecher in the eye anymore. For months after that, his sleep had been destroyed and he had thrown all his nervous energy into building another tunnel that would take him away from Oz and all this shit. Miguel Alvarez had followed him out of that tunnel and stayed out of sight for a while. But himself? Not so lucky. He'd sought out Miss Sally's house and hoped that maybe she would see him, give him refuge, and listen to how she was the only bright thing in Oz... the only bright thing in his life.

Fat chance. They'd caught him and brought him back. The news of his tunnel was the big headline when they had dragged him in front of the cameras that time. Even so, the knowledge was there in his mind, and maybe out there too.  Maybe it had followed him out of his tunnel.  Even as he did his time in solitary and then endured Rebadow's silent scorn afterwards, all Busmalis could think about was those two swift stabs that had catapulted him into Beecher and Keller's violent drama and made his life a living hell.

He'd tried to keep the stress hidden under a good poker face and a few dumb jokes about having a cellmate being just like being married, but the anxiety just kept gnawing at him and taking bigger bites each time.  When he had heard that Beecher's son had been kidnapped, Busmalis felt sure that some part of that had his name on it. When Beecher received his son's hand in the mail and screamed all night long in sorrow, Busmalis had wept silently with him, partly out of guilt. When Beecher had attacked Keller, mistakenly thinking that Keller had orchestrated the kidnapping and the killing, Busmalis wished that it was him that they were tearing apart instead of each other.

Now, looking at the approaching camera crew and his own trembling hands, Busmalis had started to panic. _What if they found out?_ his fevered brain asked. _What if they've found out and they end up putting it on TV?_

"Gentlemen," said the short haired woman who was leading the camera crew around. Her voice had temporarily snapped him back to the present moment. "I'm looking for some background information on a Tobias Beecher, his relationship with Vernon Schillinger...

All it took was them mentioning Beecher's name and sheer terror swept over him.  
  
 _They know! Oh fuck, they do! Oh shit! Oh fucking God, I'm sorry! I'm not a killer look Keller is alive Oh that fucking bastard Keller fucking bastard Beecher how the fuck could he just walk away from that like nothing ever happened how couldhejustwalkawaylikehedidOhGodI'msorryOhfuckKellerandBeecherthosetwoassholesIneverwantedtobepartoftheirshit!_

" _GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!_ " he boomed, rising to his feet and chanelling every ounce of his emotions into the command.

Murphy, who had been escorting them around stepped in. "Okay, relax Busmalis!" he barked, holding up a hand to subdue him. He turned to the woman and the crew and started ushering them in another dection. "Come on, let's talk to somebody else. Come on, come on, come on."

With a shaky breath, Busmalis plopped back into his chair. They'd gone away.

_Oh, thank God! Oh thank you!_

"Nice," Rebadow remarked with a smirk. "Now all of America's gonna see you acting like an asshole."

 _Better that than a murderer_ , he thought and began to regroup.  

It wasn't long before the shakes subsided altogether.  He was pleasantly surprised to discover how just that little bit of screaming had also made about half of that pent up tension vanish. It was better than he had felt in a long time.


End file.
